Sarah Jessica and her groomsman lover were hurrying back to the mansion. The people in the hall gasped, their attention turning towards Jessica as they whispered amongst themselves. "Gosh! This story is exciting!" I heard from one reporter. Could she be any more foolish? She invited nearly every TV station in the city to this event, which she dubs the 'wedding of the year' gathering! It's all about her craving social media fame and flaunting Amir's supposed grand gestures. She's acting like she's Kim K or something! Jessica spotted me near the entrance of the event hall. Her attention then shifted to her own image illuminated on the large projector, and she gasped, recoiling in terror. A swift scan of her surroundings heightened her fear as she noticed the drone ominously trailing behind her. I furrowed my brow in confusion, puzzled by the unfamiliar drone; mine is a hexacopter. Apart from me, there are others eager to expose Jessica's antics! But who could they be? Suddenly, Je
Philip Sarah's relationship with Amir left me perplexed. Despite her insistence that it was not romantic, I couldn't shake the nagging question of how she became pregnant when she asked for a breakup. The thought of me being the father of her child sent shivers down my spine. And why, if I were the father, would she seek a divorce? Was there an abortion involved? What secrets was Sarah concealing? 'Philip, your lack of care for her may be the root cause,' my conscience echoed, offering a possible explanation. Feeling unsettled, I resolved to delve deeper into the matter. The puzzle pieces didn't align— those I had gathered, the scenes I had witnessed, and the information I got from Ethan. My mother's interference in Sarah's affairs added another layer of complexity. Perhaps that held the key to unraveling the truth. Surveying the scene with the drone, I caught sight of Sarah engaged in conversation with Bronn Martin. A surge of frustration gripped me, witnessing Bronn's prote
Sarah Fear dissolved into oblivion the moment his lips met mine, drowned in the familiar scent of Philip that enveloped me. As he reluctantly withdrew, his gaze lingered on my lips, his thumb delicately tracing their contours. Then, I shivered as his hand found its place on my buttocks, tenderly caressing, igniting a sensation that defied description. "Philip," I exclaimed, my eyebrow twitching with frustration. "That's my ass!" "I know," he replied, unmoving. "Move!" Instead of conceding, Philip leaned his head on my shoulder, his arms enveloping me. Confusion and shock swirled within me as he unexpectedly became clingy, his hold tightening, his sadness palpable. "I just wanted to be close to you," he murmured. "Reflecting on our time together, I can see the mistakes I've made, each one a painful reminder of my shortcomings. I know I'm far from perfect, and perhaps that's why we find ourselves in this predicament. Just saying 'sorry' doesn't seem enough to make things right."
Sarah Philip cast a glance at the pink car tailing us. "Hmm... Who could that be?" he inquired calmly. "I'm not sure," I responded, stepping on the accelerator. I noticed the pink car matching our speed, confirming my suspicion that it was tailing us. "Do you have a lot of enemies you can't even recognize who's trailing us?" he queried once more. "It's as if you're implying I have a bad attitude," I retorted, pressing harder on the gas pedal. That pink car wouldn't outmaneuver me when it came to driving. Philip extracted his cellphone from his pocket, dialing Assistant Alex's number. "I need answers, now. Find out who owns that car with the license plate..." He recited the plate number to Alex. I sped on, the adrenaline coursing through my veins, until the pink car vanished from view, swallowed by the twists and turns of the road. Three agonizing minutes later, Philip's phone buzzed with a response. "According to Alex, the owner of that pink car is Jessica Woods," Philip annou
Philip In the quiet embrace of the Henderson night, nestled amidst the desert's whispers, lies the serene sanctuary of the Henderson Memorial Clinic. Bathed in the gentle glow of moonlight, its modern façade exudes a tranquil aura, inviting those needing healing to find solace within its walls. I'm trailing behind the two bodyguards as we walk down the hallway toward the ward where Nurse Samantha Hayes is assigned. She's the same nurse assigned to the OB-Gyne department when my mother brought Sarah last year while in Highland Hills. "Excuse me, we're looking for Nurse Samantha Hayes," one of my bodyguards addressed the nurse at the station. The nurse eyed us with suspicion, likely due to our imposing presence. "May I inquire as to who they are?" she questioned, her tone wary. With a reassuring smile, my bodyguard responded, "My mother was hospitalized last year, and Nurse Hayes took care of her. It was in Highland Hills. We just wanted to check in on her at my mother's request."
Sarah As I stirred awake, the room enveloped me in a shroud of darkness, leaving me momentarily disoriented. Recollections trickled back, reminding me of my recent journey with Philip to this hotel, shadowed by Jessica’s persistent pursuit in her unmistakable pink vehicle. My gaze fell upon Philip, seated on the couch as I exited the bedroom. A dim light illuminated his figure, casting shadows that danced across his troubled features. Is he drinking? Heavy with sorrow, his eyes met mine as I approached, his silent inquiry hanging palpably in the air. "Why keep the truth from me?" he asked. Confusion clouded my thoughts, grappling with the weight of his accusation. "What truth?" He responded to my inquiry about the baby, our child, the infant I had been grieving for until this moment. As I sifted through memories, myriad thoughts crossed my mind, but one remained etched in my heart. “Don’t you know? You saw my pregnancy report, Philip! You even asked your mother…” My voi
Sarah Trey swiftly positioned himself in front of me, shielding my trembling form from Jessica's wrath. The liquid Jessica had flung splattered onto his broad back, emitting an ominous wisp of smoke, indicating that the bottle's contents were anything but ordinary. Jessica's eyes widened with fury. "Why did you intervene? You fool!" she spat at Trey. Fear rippled through me, a shiver tracing down my spine as I grasped the gravity of Jessica's unraveling demeanor. "Madam Sarah, keep your distance from that woman! She's not herself," Trey warned with urgency, lacing his words. Hastily, he shed his jacket, a precaution against the unknown substance Jessica had hurled. Only then did I spot the lingering splatters marring his frame, a stark reminder of the danger. "You're stupid! I will kill that bitch!" Jessica seethed, her fury propelling her toward me, but in that instant, all I wanted was to strike her with whatever was within reach. Closing the distance between us, I delivered
Philip Marcus Blackwood is..." Sarah started. "The man my mother had an affair with," Amir continued, his voice strained with tension. "He's dangerous!" But his words only left me more perplexed. "What connection does he have to Sarah? And why would Jessica claim Marcus poses a threat to her life?" Sarah and Amir exchanged significant glances. "He's my biological father!" Sarah revealed, her expression tight. "I don't understand why you confided in Jessica about Marcus," she probed, directing her statement at Amir. As I pieced together the puzzle, my brow furrowed. Could it be that the bond between Amir and Sarah stemmed from their intertwined family histories—Amir's mother's involvement with Marcus Blackwood, who happened to be Sarah's father? "I'm sorry. I confided in Jess because I thought she'd be my wife. I thought she'd become part of the Benner Family," Amir explained. Sarah trembled with fury, her emotions palpable. "All of you, just leave!" she commanded, striding
Jane "Jane!" Brody's voice echoed through the hallway, making me freeze. Oh no! He was really here. My heart raced as I approached the door and peeked through the peephole. Brody was on the other side, his broad shoulders filling the frame. His usual neat look was a bit messy—his necktie was crooked, his top button undone, and a hint of stubble darkened his jaw. Should I open the door? "I know you're there, Jane," he said, his voice low and steady. Taking a deep breath, I slowly turned the lock. The click felt loud in the quiet. When the door opened, our eyes met, and the months apart vanished instantly. Brody's eyes scanned my face, lingering on my swollen eyes that showed I'd been crying. I saw a mix of emotions pass over his face: concern, guilt, and something more intense. Without a word, he stepped inside. The scent of his cologne enveloped me as he pushed the heavy oak door closed with his foot. Before I could gather my thoughts, his hands cupped my face, thumbs gentl
Jane When did I genuinely start falling for him so deeply? It was that night four years ago, during a crisp autumn in London. Brody was abroad on a business trip. I was overworked and sick at the time. I had just returned from Paris, feeling dizzy as I stepped into our penthouse in Mayfair. I sneezed as I texted him. Me: 'Just got back from a business trip. What do you want for dinner?' Almost instantly, Brody replied: 'I'm on a business trip in New York. You didn't tell me you were coming back today.' I had wanted to surprise him, so I kept my return a secret. But he hadn't mentioned his trip to me either. Me: 'Alright! Take care!' My nose, already raw and red from constant sneezing, throbbed as I hit send. I dragged myself to the ensuite bathroom, leaving a trail of discarded clothes behind me. The hot shower offered momentary relief, but the room began to spin uncontrollably as I stepped out, wrapped in Brody's oversized bathrobe. I collapsed onto our king-sized bed. The e
Jane Tears welled up in my eyes as I watched Philip and Sarah's fairy-tale wedding. We were in Dubai, at Grandpa Mitchell's mansion, surrounded by a small circle of close friends and family, all gathered to witness the couple's intimate vows. Yet, as they exchanged their promises of love, a deep sense of incompleteness washed over me. Perhaps there's truth in the saying that when life becomes a cycle of repetition—office, work, the Cornell mansion, and back again—you start to feel like something important is missing. After the ceremony, I embraced Sarah tightly, tears threatening to spill. "Congratulations, love!" The celebration continued, but my thoughts were elsewhere. I knew I needed to return to London to calm my churning emotions. "Auntie Jane, are you alright?" Iris asked, her voice full of concern as she sat beside me at the round table with Rowan by her side. I plastered on a smile, hoping it looked genuine. "Yes, sweetheart. Why do you ask?" "You look sad." I manage
Sarah My father, Mr. Benner, contacted me again. After years of estrangement, I decided it was time to meet him and finally confront our tumultuous past. Accompanied by Trey, I arrived at the hotel suite where he was staying. His assistant, a woman in her thirties, greeted us at the door with a smile. "Good afternoon, Ms. Mitchell!" she said warmly. "Hello," I managed. "Please, come in," she said, stepping aside to let me enter. I walked across the plush carpet until I saw Mr. Benner. My father, once a towering figure of authority, now sat in a wheelchair. His once jet-black hair had faded to steel gray, and deep lines etched his face. It had been a long time since he had disowned me. "I'm so happy to see you, Sarah," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "You've lost so much weight, my dear…" 'My dear…' I approached him, extending a carefully wrapped package. "I brought you something," I said, "Three first editions by Haruki Murakami. Your favorite." He smiled appreci
Sarah Philip gently removed my simple white dress, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and concern as he took in my changed appearance. "W-why are you doing this? Philip, I just came out of a coma. I'm not ready for anything... physical." I said honestly. After nearly two years of medical interventions, my body was still fragile, and I had only been recovering for a month. His gaze softened immediately. "Oh, Sarah, no. That's not why… I'm not trying to take advantage of you. It's just that…" He examined my skin and my arm, which had thinned considerably. I felt a bit uncomfortable with what he was doing. "You've lost so much weight." A flicker of insecurity flashed through me. I pouted and squinted at him. "What do you mean by that? Do you find me unattractive?" "No, no. No, babe!" he vehemently denied. "That's not what I meant. It's just…" It took a while before Philip continued. "I vividly remember the day Marcus shot you. Your last appearance is etched in my mind. I
Philip I'm here at Serenity Pines Estate, seeking a bit of solitude before midnight passes. Despite weeks of working nonstop, Sarah's presence lingered everywhere. Her hold on my heart hasn't faded with time or distance. As soon as I stepped through the door, it felt like I could see a younger Sarah sitting on the couch, waiting for me. In my mind's eye, she stood, a warm smile gracing her lips. "Have you eaten?" Reality hit hard as my fist clenched. These were just memories, as delicate as spun glass. I walked to the kitchen, where the marble countertops glowed in the moonlight. My hands shook as I reached for the crystal decanter, pouring a generous amount of aged scotch. The amber liquid shimmered, offering a brief escape from my thoughts. I bought Serenity Pines on the second night Sarah and I were married, ensuring it had top-notch security. Sarah might not have noticed, but every part of this home was a tribute to her—from the soft cream bedroom walls to the handcrafted boo
Sarah When asked about my first destination, I pointed towards the school, my heart racing with anticipation. I love Philip deeply, and today is his birthday, but nothing could surpass the joy of reuniting with my children. The school bell rang, and a flood of children poured out of the ornate iron gates. The twins emerged from the gate precisely as planned, followed closely by Josh, who ensured their safety. At first, they didn't recognize me. I felt like a stranger in my own skin, having lost nearly fifty pounds since we last met. Their confused looks tugged at my heart, but I understood. I always will. Iris clutched her beloved rabbit doll, and Rowan had their lunchbox. Tears began to well up in my eyes, but I wiped them away to see the twins more clearly. There was a noticeable difference in how they've changed. They're taller now. Rowan wears glasses, and Iris's skin has lightened. My beautiful, growing children... "Kids, your mom…" I read Josh's lips. His eyes widened
Sarah It felt like drifting through an endless dream, each moment stretching into eternity. After my firstborn's death, grief enveloped me like a suffocating shroud. I retreated, closing my heart and mind to the outside world. Joy became a foreign concept, a distant memory I could no longer grasp. Nothing could penetrate the fog of my sorrow because deep down, I knew I was fundamentally broken—I was not okay. Just like then, my mind feels closed off, wrapped in a thick layer of ice. Driving aimlessly, stopping several times to watch the setting sun. I'm heading into darkness, but whenever I hear my children's voices... Philip... these beloved sounds tug at me, urging me to turn back towards the fading light. But why did I also hear my mother's voice? I resume my journey. The world around me has been leached of color as if a cosmic artist has erased all pigment from the canvas of reality. I'm traveling through an endless road surrounded by empty deserts. The monotony should be
Philip A week passed, then two, then three… Ethan eventually had to ask me to leave, as some patients needed the hospital's facilities more. "I can visit you at Serenity Pines, or even drop by Luminary Productions if you need someone to clean your wounds," Ethan offered. I remained silent. I wanted to stay at the hospital because Sarah was here. Fear gnawed at my chest, making sleep impossible. I was paralyzed by the terror of receiving the devastating news that my wife had passed away, that her body had finally given out, or any other heart-wrenching update while she was out of my reach. As much as I wanted to stay by Sarah's side, I couldn't longer ignore our children's needs. Iris and Rowan needed stability and a bit of normalcy. The hospital, with its sick patients and germs, wasn't a good place for a four-year-old to stay. Rowan's small voice interrupted my thoughts while I changed into a clean t-shirt in my ward, trying to gather the energy to face another day. "Uncle Eth